


have you got color in your cheeks?

by neonpython



Series: two young lovers, half priced drinks [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Bruises, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Tension, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29388108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonpython/pseuds/neonpython
Summary: Skeppy tries to get bad to end a stream early.
Relationships: Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Series: two young lovers, half priced drinks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158830
Comments: 5
Kudos: 203





	have you got color in your cheeks?

**Author's Note:**

> take this while I work on my next chapter fic

have you got color in your cheeks?

_ The navy blue of five am presses in from all corners of Skeppy’s bedroom, the only light being from his laptop screen.  _ He’s on a call with Bad, despite being down the hall from each other, Bad being in his office. Despite the early morning, Bad is still streaming, watching videos his fans send him to try and make him laugh. 

Dream’s newest dumb idea was to do a twenty-four hour livestream challenge to raise money for different charities, and Bad had lost the bet to do his first. Skeppy, being the awesome friend that he is, promised to be there for as long as he could manage to stay awake. Now that Bad has thirty minutes left, he’s started to lose his mind a bit. His stream plays from Skeppy’s laptop propped up on his bed frame. Bad’s hysterical giggles make him wince.

“Why are you so loud? I can hear you from my bedroom.” Skeppy complains. 

“Because I am, Skeppy,” Bad slurs, glaring playfully at his camera. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Despite the eye bags indicating his sleeplessness, he has never looked more beautiful. His skin glowing a peachy tan under the harsh light of his lamp, brown hair sticking on ends. He looks disheveled and talks without inhibitions.

Someone donates twenty dollars.

_ tell Skeppy you love him!! _

“Skeppy, I love you!” He makes a kissy face at the camera.

On cue, he gets five donos in a row, telling him a variety of things to tell Skeppy.

The comments in the chat are far less child friendly than the donations. They’ve been overly flirty all stream, so it’s no surprise people are pressing on Bad’s boundaries of what he will or won’t do. While some say things like “blow him a kiss” or “tell him a pickup line”, others tell him more risque things.

_ skeppy sounds like hed pin u to the wall _ _   
_ _ no bad is definitely the top _ _   
_ _ bad ask skeppy what he tastes like _ _   
_ _ I wonder if bad is as loud in bed as he is now _ _   
_ _ i bet skeppy hears that ever night _ _   
_ __ god just fuck already

Skeppy would be lying if he hasn’t thought those same things. In the late hours of the night, when he can’t fall asleep, his mind would wander to the deepest, darkest parts of his desire to help release stress. He’d think of wrapping his lips around the base of his cock, thick and pale just like the rest of him. Leaving scratches on Bad’s back. Hickeys tattooing him, marking Skeppy as his own. Fucking until the sun rises and leaving him shaking with pleasure.

A blush crawls to Bad’s face as he reads the chat. “Why is everybody so muffiny right now, this is a PG stream,” he chuckles, voice strained.

“It’s not their fault you’re so hot,” Skeppy says, watching the blush deepen.

“Quiet, Skeppy, or I’ll hang up.”

“Aw, you won’t do that.”

Now he’s wondering how Bad would sound while he unravels, if it would sound like that throaty groan. Maybe it’d be in a higher octave, pitching up with each thrust.

Warmth rushes down. Skeppy bites the inside of his lip. He can’t get this way now, not when Bad is still streaming.

“Anyways, where’s the next video?”

Finally, a clip of a cat photoshopped into a wheelchair appears on Bad’s screen. It plays, and Bad stifles a giggle at it, the blush keeping its intensity on his cheeks. Several more videos are sent in, and he nearly laughs at all of them.

Skeppy decides to relieve some tension. His brain is a slurry in his skull, no thoughts except the ones sending blood to his dick, and wants to see if he can make the last twenty minutes of this stream even more exciting than it already must be.

“Bad, you look so pretty blushing like that,” he purrs.

The chat loses their minds before Bad has time to react. Oh, the shippers are going to have a lot of material to write with this one. Skeppy grins as the ruby mask spreads from his cheeks to his ears, down to his neck. Bad tilts his head all the way back. He stares at the column of his throat, the shadowy bump of his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he lets out a deep groan, disguising it with a feeble cough. 

“Y-you’re on speaker,” Bad stammers.

“I know.” Skeppy props himself up, free hand pressing the front of his sweats. “What, you think I’m gonna say something that the fans can’t hear?”

His attention jumps between Bad’s stream and his hand gripping himself through the fabric. 

“Do you think I’m pretty?” 

Bad stutters nonsense. “O- of course!”

“Yeah? Prove it.”

He grabs for his phone sitting on his desk and frantically hits buttons, reaching for a pair of headphones tangled somewhere off screen. The chat is in an uproar. Bad finally gets the earbuds in, looking a lot more flustered than Skeppy thought he’d be.

“Can they hear me?” He asks.

“No, since you’re being a muffin,” Bad shoots back, voice wavering with hesitation.

“I thought you were going to hang up.” He doesn't wait for him to respond. “Did I really make you so flustered just flirting with you? You normally don’t act like this.”

“I haven’t slept.”

A sent in video begins to play, but Bad’s eyes aren't even on his monitor. Pearls of sweat form on his brow, threading together.

“Would you act like this with just me? If I was with you right now?” Skeppy finally releases a soft, breathy moan now that he has Bad’s attention all to himself. “Yeah, I bet you’d be loud. I want you to be. As loud as I can get you.”

Bad’s hands flutter over his desk for purchase, his fingers digging deep into the armrests. His blush remains red, but his chest picks up pace. A drop of sweat runs down his temple. Skeppy pushes his sweatpants and underwear down, pulling himself free.

The cold air blowing from his vent sends goosebumps over his arms. 

“Zak…” Bad swallows. “What are you doing?”

“Going through with another bad idea. If you want me to stop-”

“No, no. Just… I’m streaming.”

He looks at his clock. The stream ends in ten minutes.

“Then you won’t mind if I…” Skeppy cuts himself off with an exaggerated whine. 

Chat spams questions, trying to figure out what he’s saying.

Bad is red down to his collarbones, arms trembling and breath heavy. He looks frustrated.

No, not frustrated.

“I’m streaming,” Bad repeats.

Skeppy begins to move his hand, thumb running over the head of his dick. His hips stutter up, and he lets his head thunk against the headboard.

“End the stream,” he says between huffs and grunts. “I want you all to myself.”

“And if I do?” Bad jerks a bit, running the back of his hand over his forehead.

A smile slips over Skeppy’s face before being replaced by an open mouthed moan. Bad white knuckles the armrests.

“Then you can do whatever you want to me.”

Bad’s eyes go wide enough to pop them out of their sockets, the shudder running through him visible on camera. He makes a sound that sounds like a moan mixed with a laugh. A hand shoots up to his mouth, and he fake coughs into his fist.

“You’re a jerk,” he whispers, quiet enough for his mic not to pick it up. 

“What was that?” Skeppy hums, a coil tightening in his core. 

“Hey, guys, I’m about to crash.” Bad laughs off his weird behavior. “Five minutes left, holy cow! I can’t believe I did it.”

Skeppy grins. “I think I’d tease you first.”

Someone sends in a video of a bear dancing. Bad grins at it but doesn’t laugh.

“I’d kiss your neck, let my hands touch you everywhere my mouth can’t reach. Then I think I’d wrap my mouth around your dick. How big are you? I bet you’d wreck me, but you’re too soft. Are you so vanilla that you wouldn't ruin me, even if I asked nicely?”

His eyes flutter closed, the images of Bad railing into him sending his mind into a deep, dark pit he doesn't want to escape. He hears a ping, and opens his eyes. The timer goes off, announcing the end of Bad’s streams. Bad rushes through some last minute dono’s obviously in a rush. While he does that, Skeppy continues jerking himself off, letting his moans fill Bad’s headphones until the stream officially ends. 

As soon as they’re alone, Bad moans, deep and guttural. His voice isn’t a stage performance anymore, no longer the sweet, high pitch fans love. It drops to an octave only Skeppy gets to hear in the latest of nights, when they fall asleep to each other’s company. The one that sends goosebumps up his arms. 

“Zak, you can’t do that to me,” he mutters.

“What?” Skeppy doesn’t try too hard to act innocent.

“I was on stream, you muffin, now all of our fans are gonna think something happened.”

“Did something happen?”

“Did something- you’re here saying all these things to me, while I’m trying to stream, and you don’t expect me to react?”

Skeppy runs a thumb over his head, unable to keep his hips down. “It was a ha-half baked plan, if I’m being honest.”

There’s quiet on the other end, and when Bad speaks again, his voice is a blank slate. “Are you jerking off right now?”

“What would you do if I was?”

For a moment, he’s afraid he scared Bad off and that he hung up. That is, until he hears the clank of a belt being unbuckled. Bad lets out a long sigh, sending sharp prickles through Skeppy’s chest.

“God, you’re a pain,” he groans.

“You love me,” Skeppy taunts through pants. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Bad hisses, bed springs creaking.

“You wanna know what I’m doing? I’m going  _ real _ slow, pretending it’s you touching me. You’re so much paler, your fingers would look so pretty wrapped around me.” He sighs. “Now I’m twisting my wrist just- ah, just right.”

Skeppy squeezes gently at the base to calm himself as he lets Bad catch up, hearing his breath pick up to a string of groans. When he begins to move again, other hand traveling over his stomach, a small moan of Bad’s name escapes. The change in the air is palpable.

“Go faster.” Bad’s words are an order.

He does as he’s told without questions, hips twitching and bucking into his hand as he picks up speed. Muscles clench, hand pressed to the center of his chest. The room is filled with the sounds of flesh against flesh, breathy moans, and Bad’s commands to slow down, speed up, touch himself in different places.

It surprises them both how easily he takes control. His voice is a soft rumble in Skeppy’s chest. 

Bad grunts, making small huffs with each thrust into his hand. “How are you such a mess already? So needy, you couldn’t even wait for the stream to end.”

“Yes, yes, yes yes,” he chants. “God, Bad, I need you. I need you so much.”

The line goes dead. Skeppy glances down at his phone, realizing that he’s hung up. He starts to wonder if he did something wrong before his bedroom door slams up. 

Bad stands in the entrance to his room, shirtless with his unbuttoned jeans hanging loosely around his hips. Pale skin glows orange under the rising sun’s touch. His hair is in spikes, hands twitching at his sides. Skeppy tosses his phone and computer to the floor just in time for Bad to slam into him with a kiss, hands gripping his shirt like a lifeline. It’s messy, open mouthed, and everything he’s ever wanted.

He lets Bad climb on top of him, knees on either side of his hips. Skeppy drags one hand through his dark hair to keep their mouths together, his other slipping under Bad’s boxers. The low rumble against his lips is worth the bite that follows it.

“Do you really want this?” Bad asks, hands gripping his hips.

Skeppy nods. He pulls away enough to kick his sweatpants the rest of the way off, Bad busying himself with his own clothing. The moment they’re naked, Skeppy stops. Bad’s skin is untouched by the sun, small beauty marks covering his shoulders and hips.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Skeppy whispers, running his hands up to rest on the center of Bad’s chest. “I’m crazy for you.”

“Do you have-”

“Drawer.”

As Bad fumbles into the nightstand for the lube, Skeppy takes the opportunity to wrap his fingers around his dick. Bad’s body turns rigid as he lets out a soft, wanton moan. He drops back onto the bed, back hitting the wall. Skeppy slowly jerks him off, watching the small twitches and voiceless  _ oh’s _ on his face.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, gently kissing Bad’s jaw. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

He can feel the laboured breathing against his neck, swallowing as Bad stammers out a reply. “Skep…”

“I saw the way you looked when I was on the phone. That blush, the one you have now. Those noises you made. You want me, just as much as I want you. Will you have me?”

Bad runs a hand up from Skeppy’s thigh to his shoulder, and pulls him away to look him in the eye. There’s so much between them, so much said again and again that’s painted with new meaning. “Always.”

Skeppy releases his dick and allows himself to be pressed into the mattress by warm, pale hands. Bad squeezes a generous amount of lube into his palm and engulfs Skeppy in a kiss powerful enough to make his head spin. When he presses a finger inside, getting down to the last knuckle, shivers of desire dance up Skeppy’s spine.

Lips find his throat. Bad gently pushes in and out, curling and searching. Lightning strikes inside of Skeppy’s stomach as he adds another finger, stretching him open in preparation. He grips the pillow under his head, back bowing up. His skin is a landmine, and Bad sets off every inch with the brush of that spot inside of him. 

“Bad,” Skeppy groans. “Right there. Oh, oh-”

The burning glory in Bad’s eyes turns his words into tripwire. His fingers slip out with ease, leaving Skeppy wanting to be filled again. He locks his ankles around Bad’s back, urging him forward, needing him closer. There’s nothing in the world Skeppy wouldn't do just to feel him.

“You know, you lost that bet,” he says with a lopsided smile. “I said if you ended the stream early, then you could do anyth-”

Bad slaps a hand over his mouth. “If you want it, then beg.” 

Skeppy smiles, heartbeat stuttering at the demand. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Wreck me.”

When Bad removes his hand, he widens the space between Skeppy’s thighs, grabbing the lube to coat his cock.

“You’re lucky I can never say no to you.” Bad’s voice tickles his neck as he crouches over him.

His cock prods at Skeppy, stretching him out as Bad slowly, cautiously presses in. The pain is nothing compared to the completion of something long sought out for. Skeppy can’t help but groan in relief. When Bad bottoms out, they freeze.

“Skep,” he pants out, “breathe.”

He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath. Skeppy inhales. Bad pulls out until just the head is inside of him. His hands wander to Skeppy’s waist, and he tests the waters with a shallow buck forward. Every drop of Skeppy’s blood is gunpowder, and Bad is the match setting him off in a series of small explosions.

A high pitched gasp escapes Skeppy as he repeats the movement. His hands scramble for something to hold, to keep him grounded. He finds Bad somewhere in the blinding pleasure, nails digging into his spine. They drag down as Bad’s hips snap against his own, fingers pressing hard against the soft flesh of his lower back. That seems to drive him faster, the build up slowly grows in the expanse of Skeppy’s abdomen. 

“You said I was the loud one.” Bad’s groans tickle the cusp of his ear. “Listen to yourself. I bet the neighbors can hear you. Do you want them to hear you? To know what I’m doing?”

Although Skeppy never took Bad for a talker in bed, his body reacts with anticipation, and he babbles a response that’s barely comprehensible. “I want them to know I’m yours. I’m all yours, always have. Always will.”

Bad’s grip on his bony hips tightens, now doubt leaving beautiful bruises behind. Skeppy can’t find it in himself to care. He revels in the tasteful pain, in the way Bad’s teeth tug at the skin of his throat, marking him with evidence of their tryst. They’re one being with no end, a tangle of blushing skin and endless want. As the pace quickens, a chorus of noise escapes them. Their cracking moans reveal how close they are.

Skeppy covers his burning face, biting into his thumb to muffle himself. Bad takes his wrists in one hand and pins them above his head, fingers knocking against the metal headboard. He slams into him, pulling almost completely out before sheathing himself again, and stares down at Skeppy like he held the stars in his eyes.

“I want to see you,” he says, and his words are dripping with love. He drops a hand between them and jerks Skeppy off to the motion of his hips, nipping gently at his jaw.

The pressure ignites in Skeppy’s gut, thighs trembling as he reaches his highest point, coming down with a crash. His back bows until it hurts, wrists tugging at Bad’s hold. Skeppy’s vision turns white-hot with a ricocheting release. It starts deep within his abdomen, setting the rest of his shaking body alight with different measures of bliss. He whimpers as Bad continues, sloppily chasing his own finish.

When Skeppy’s soul returns to him, overstimulation sets in. The stinging bruises he basked in earlier now turn tender against the cold air. His cock, still in Bad’s hand, twitches with a painful pleasure.

“Zak.” Bad sounds close to breaking. “Can I-”

“Do it. Please, please, please, please,  _ please- _ ”

Skeppy digs his heels into the small of his back, driving him deeper. Bad’s free hand cradles his cheek, kissing him softly, a dichotomy of his hip’s frantic motions. He opens his mouth, yearning to be closer.

With muttered affection urging him on, Bad plunges his cock as deep as he can, body quivering with his dive into euphoria. He glows in the dim lights of bedroom. Sweat mixes in with cum. A groan tears through his throat, followed by a chorus of  _ zak zak zak zak _ . When he’s done, they both pause, staring at each other. Realization sinks in.

Bad, still inside of him, speaks first. “We… oh, my god, your hips.”

“Are you really worried about that?” Skeppy asks with a chuckle.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I kind of… got in the moment.” Bad grabs his boxers and, after a moment of hesitation, wipes the mess off of their stomachs. “Does it hurt?”

“A little, but I don’t mind.”

He gently pulls out, making Skeppy whine, and collapses beside him. They quietly catch their breath. The air turns cold without the heat of their bodies.

“This isn’t, like, a one time thing, right?” Skeppy asks.

“Why would it be?” Bad turns his head to him, cheeks tinted and glistening with sweat. “I mean, if you don’t want to, we can-”

“I want to.”

Their hands find each other, and Bad kisses his knuckles. “I really, really like you, Skeppy. As if I haven’t made that obvious already. Sorry about the hickeys.”

Strange warmth floods his eyes. He runs a finger down the slope of Bad’s nose, sending him a goofy side smile. “I like you too. And don’t worry about them. You can make it up to me later.”


End file.
